


the dotted line

by Pares (kormantic)



Category: due South
Genre: Community: ds_flashfiction, Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-01-06
Updated: 2003-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-16 17:58:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9283514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kormantic/pseuds/Pares
Summary: A written confession. For the "documentation" ds flashfiction challenge.





	

"Bullshit."

"I beg your pardon?" Fraser's voice only hinted that he was pissed; Ray had learned to listen for it.

"You don't mean a word you just said. 'I feel the time is right to move on', 'I'm looking forward to new challenges'," Ray mimicked, and crossed his arms against his chest. "That's bullshit. I call shenanigans, Fraser."

Maybe the flush that skated over Fraser's face was anger, but Ray had his money on shame.

"I didn't expect to find you so... combative, Ray."

"Well, I didn't expect my best friend to stand in my kitchen and lie to me, either, so I guess we're even Stephen."

Fraser blinked twice and pulled absently at his stiff collar.

"I'm not lying, Ray," he said, but he kept his eyes on Ray's floor like the linoleum was sticky enough to cement them there until the next ice age.

"Prove it, then."

Fraser's eyebrows were giving it all away; Ray hadn't seen a perp this rattled since he'd picked up Little Jerry Tattletale on the Lower East Side.

"I'm sure I'd be offended, Ray, if I had any idea why you believe I'm lying about being glad to get home, to once again--"

"Save it for the confession."

"Confession?"

"Yep. If you're telling the truth, then I want it in writing." Ray drew out a chair at the kitchen table, and patted the Formica tabletop. "Have a seat there, Fraser." He flipped open the little square notepad he kept by the phone and ripped out a single sheet. Even from three feet away, Ray could feel Fraser dying to neaten up the dangling raggedy bits that hung from the side of the page, but he kept his grin to himself and slapped the blue-ruled paper down in front of the still-empty chair. "Lemme get you a pen."

By the time he got back with the Bic ballpoint, Fraser was seated and staring at the paper as if he could see through it with X-Ray vision, right down to the neighbor's below, where they must have had a roomful of caribou to keep Fraser that interested.

Dief barked and Fraser shot him a dirty look. It never failed to crack him up: Fraser treated Dief the way Ray's older brother David had treated Ray. But with less punching.

Ray set the pen down with a crisp little click, and leaned both hands on the table. Fraser looked up at him, all imploring, the Big Mountie Eyes set on stun... but Ray was a hard guy, and he didn't flinch.

"Tick tock, my friend." He tapped the paper twice. "Write it down just like you told me."

The kitchen florescents were pitiless, and Ray could see a single bead of sweat form at Fraser's hairline.

"But Ray--"

"I'll tell you what, I'll tell you what to write. Make it easy on you. Maybe not word for word or nothin', but the basics, right? Write this down: I, Benton Fraser, being of sound mind--"

Fraser spread his hands on the table and glanced up, clearly annoyed.

"Now, really, Ray, this isn't my Last Will and Testament, and you've taken confessions dozens of times. This isn't even close to regulation--"

Waving his hands, Ray drowned out Fraser's complaining. "Blah blah blah, you're stallin' and that's all I hear. Fine, I'll write it, and then you can read it over and sign on the dotted line." And he tugged the lined paper out from under Fraser's hands and began to write, sheltering the paper with his hand when he caught Fraser trying to read it upside down.

A few chews of the pen cap later, the confession was done. He handed it to the Mountie with a flourish.

"Read it over. Out loud," he specified.

Fraser was trying not to frown and doing a shitty job of it, but he cleared his throat and began to read it.

"I, Benton Fraser--"

"Hey, what's your middle name, anyhow?"

Fraser pursed his lips for a second and started over.

"I, Benton Fraser, being of sound mind when I'm not licking electrical sockets--" He set the page down again and took a deep breath, clearly intending to argue long and loud and Ray held up a hand and commanded, "Just read it."

You could practically see the little black cloud over Fraser's head.

"I, Benton Fraser, being of sound mind when I'm not licking electrical sockets, and of excellent Mountie physique-- 'Physique' is spelled Q-U-E, Ray, do solemnly swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth in this signed confession.

"I feel the time is right to move on, and so I am leaving the 'groovy' urban land of Chicago for the frozen tundra. I'm looking forward to new challenges in the Northwest Areas, such as polar bear wrestling--" Here, Fraser paused to compose himself before soldiering on. "Polar bear wrestling, 'sticking the rowdies in the drunk tank every Saturday night' and making snow angels. I will in no way, shape or form miss hot showers, driving around in a 'cool' car, or the ability to 'catch a flick ' and order a deepdish with my ex-partner, Ray." Ray got hit with another Big Eyed Mountie look and pretended to ignore it.

"I will not miss my ex-partner while I am in the 'arctic wasteland' I call home. I am not 'skipping town' in order to avoid my feelings for him. I do not--" He stumbled here, and cleared his throat carefully. Twice. "Love him even a little, and I think a nice postcard will cheer him up when I am back in the 'stupid', 'frosty' country of Canada."

Ray held out the pen, his own face flaming, but Fraser wouldn't take it.

"Go on, sign it."

"I can't, Ray."

"How come?" Ray told himself to chill, and he was rock steady, he was solid, he was almost home-free.

Fraser stood up and swiped the confession off the table. He hesitated a moment and then his chin firmed up, and he looked resolute.

"Because it isn't true, Ray. You know it's not."

"So if it's not true, why are you leaving?"

Fraser sat down again, his mouth soft and miserable.

"I don't know. I do miss it, and yet, when I think of leaving--"

Ray edged his way around the table, and hunkered down next to Fraser's chair, one hand on Fraser's knee for balance.

"So don't go. If it's not true, then stay here. 'Cause you gotta know..." And Ray couldn't think of anything to say that wasn't some combination of needy and psycho, so instead he just looked up at Fraser, beaming his own version of the Big Eyed Mountie look right back at the man himself.

"I would miss you," Fraser said softly, finally. "I would miss you terribly. At this point, I can't imagine a day without you-- Ray." And that was Fraser's big warm hand, right there, right on top of his, and Fraser was looking right at him, his eyes doing all the talking now, and Ray took a moment to think, "Shake, bad guys, shake!" with a certain smug satisfaction, right before Fraser bent to kiss him.


End file.
